


Equality

by coldishcase



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Breif mentions of other past sexual encounters, Cuddles, Fuck the Code out of Obi-Wan's head, Fuck the noise out of Anakin's head, Hurt/Comfort, I say Top Obi-Wan but honestly they're both bottoms and they're making it work, M/M, Nesting, Omega Anakin Skywalker, Omega Obi-Wan Kenobi, Omega/Omega Relationship, Omegaverse, Other characters are mentioned but not really utilized, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, Very indirect mention of past noncon, a/b/o dynamics, heavy on the comfort, omega in heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27344833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldishcase/pseuds/coldishcase
Summary: Palpatine summons Obi-Wan and Anakin to his office to tell them he has a mission for a couple of Omegas. Only, Anakin isn't sure why he summoned Obi-Wan too, he's always been so sure that his Master is an Alpha... isn't he?Anakin sees some people's true colors and gets his world turned upside down, then has some great, Alpha-free sex.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 74
Kudos: 377





	1. The Reveal

**Author's Note:**

> A couple warnings:  
> Palpatine has an appearance, and naturally, is a creep, so expect that.  
> There is a very brief mention of past, underage rape, and though it is very indirect, could trigger some people, so please be aware of that!  
> Other than that, there's all the usual squicky A/B/O tropes, so just in case you missed it in the tags, this is an Omegaverse fic where two Male Omegas are paired together!
> 
> And, a special thanks to Aurora, @cataclysm_dialogue for beta-ing and editing this for me!! You're awesome!! She also writes some really great stuff, and you should definitely go give her a read!!

It's rare that they get called to the Chancellor's office.

Not unheard of, but rare enough that it has Anakin's nerves on edge. Usually, he goes here alone, not with Obi-Wan at his side, and that difference alone makes him nervous.

All they've been told is that they have a mission, and the Chancellor himself is to debrief them. Maybe Obi-Wan knows more, but if he does, he isn't telling Anakin anything.

And his scent gives nothing away, either. As always, his Master has applied his blockers generously, completely masking his scent from others. He instead has a pleasantly neutral scent, like warm bread and milk, one of those pleasant but not alluring scent combinations meant to mask your true one.

It's not required of course, but most unmated Omegas and Betas will in order to stave off unwanted potential mates nowadays, and even those of the more progressive Alphas who don't want to overwhelm others with their scents as a courtesy. Like his Master, Anakin thinks warmly. At least, Obi-Wan must be an Alpha, with the way he holds himself and conducts negotiations and fights...

As an Omega himself, Anakin doesn't typically care for the stereotypes associated with dynamics, he breaks all of them , but... he knows he's an exception. Obi-Wan is stocky, proud, commanding, and self-assured. And if he looks like an Alpha, acts like an Alpha, and sounds like an Alpha... he's probably an Alpha.

Not that Anakin knows for sure-- there's always that bit of doubt there, that he doesn't have any real proof... but he's grateful in any case that Obi-Wan keeps his scent so covered and takes suppressants, mindful of the fact that Anakin is an Omega and being careful not to influence him by scent, or risk accidentally going into rut.

Though, for all his inherent dislike of most Alphas... he's honest enough to admit to himself that he's dreamed of it-- of Obi-Wan losing himself to rut and taking Anakin right then and there, wherever they are, no matter who's watching.

If Anakin were ever to make an exception to his 'no Alphas' rule, it might just be for Obi-Wan. As one of the two Alphas he can tolerate, and more than that-- who he genuinely likes and wants to be around.

He wonders what Obi-Wan smells like, some days. He wonders if they would scent-match, like in the old soulmate myths he heard on Tatooine.

Perhaps someday he'll find out.

For now, he has a mission, of his nose abruptly reminds him.

The cloying smell of Alpha fills the air as they grow closer to Palpatine’s office, though it's not an abrasive scent, not like most are. Chancellor Palpatine never wears scent blockers; he doesn’t need to. His scent is subtle, not overpowering enough to set people on edge. It gives him an understated air of authority without being oppressive, which is perhaps part of how he has become such a well-liked and successful Chancellor.

Obi-Wan opens the door, letting Anakin go in first to greet his friend and grandfatherly mentor-figure.

"Skywalker, Kenobi, so good to see you both. Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"We are at your service," Obi-Wan responds gracefully, taking his seat with Anakin.

The younger Jedi speaks up, feeling less nervous now that he's actually in Palpatine's presence. "What mission do you have for us, Chancellor?"

The old man smiles, the weathered corners of his eyes crinkling as he folds his hands in front of himself. "Straight to the point it is, then. We have intelligence that the Separatists are attempting to sway the Neutral Stewjoni system to their side, and we need to run interference. The catch is, that system is ... and not only that, but they consider the use of blockers and suppressants degrading. Meaning, we would only insult them by sending anyone other than an Omega off their suppressants to handle the negotiations. So, imagine my relief to find that my best team of Negotiators is not only Omega, but one is of Stewjon descent, too. I'm sure you can both handle the mission with ease."

Anakin blinks, confusion briefly taking over. "You want me to handle the negotiations?"

"Not alone, certainly," Palpatine corrects him, "You will go together, of course."

"But..." Anakin side-eyes his strangely quiet Master for a moment. "Wouldn't sending an Alpha be insulting, like you said?" Even if Obi-Wan is of Stewjon...

Palpatine smiles, but it's Obi-Wan who answers. "Anakin," he starts very calmly, "I am also an Omega. He means both of us." If Anakin is reading Obi-Wan's Force signature right... his friend and former mentor is unnerved that Palpatine even knew that.

Anakin didn't, and he knows designations aren't public knowledge for everyone-- for good reason. So how did Palpatine know?

The Chancellor continues smoothly, as if this isn't a world-shattering revelation for Anakin. He’s _smiling_ , how can he be smiling when Anakin’s whole universe has just been flipped on its head?

"Indeed. The negotiations will take place in a week, and in that time, you will need to clear the suppressants from your system. I've taken the liberty of procuring medication to speed along the process." He pulls out a small bottle, with only four pills side it. "They should assist you in safely returning your hormones to normal, and will reduce any adverse effects from coming off of long term-suppressant use. You'll get two each, one to be taken today, and one to be taken a week from now. I apologize that I cannot provide more... they are quite difficult to procure."

Anakin's head is still reeling, so Obi-Wan takes the bottle, looking outwardly far more put together than his Master feels within the Force. He nods at the instruction, shaking out two pills. "I assume we are here to take our first dose now?"

Palpatine nods, leaning back in his seat. "If you will, please."

Obi-Wan nods, setting the bottle down and handing Anakin his pill. "Duty calls," he jokes, swallowing his own without any further preamble.

Anakin swallows his too and cringes as the pill dissolves on his tongue. It fizzles, sinking into his tongue and the roof of his mouth, leaving behind an unpleasantly bitter, sharp taste.

As his senses sharpen, he picks up on the scent of sweat, and follows it to the Jedi at his side. Obi-Wan doesn't look quite as well off-- he's pale, sweating, and breathing in shallow gulps.

Then his full scent hits Anakin, and he is blown away by how _sweet_ it is. Obi-Wan smells like rich, dark chocolate with hints of vanilla, and Anakin can't help but just breathe it in for a second, admiring the way it melds so well with his own lighter scent of strawberries and Tatooine fried cakes.

For all that he imagined what Obi-Wan's scent might be like... he never imagined this-- this rich, sugary scent which complements his own so well. He could just sit here and breathe it in for hours, letting it envelop him like a warm blanket.

 _Too_ warm though, he thinks, pulling himself out of his brief distraction. His eyes had fallen shut without his notice.

It takes him a second to register what's wrong.

Obi-Wan is trembling, starting to curl up on himself as beads of sweat run down his neck.

Palpatine voices it just as Anakin's brain catches up to the realization. "Oh dear, it appears Master Kenobi is going into heat-- unfortunate, but not unexpected. He has been on suppressants for so many years, he will likely go through some of the rougher symptoms."

Obi-Wan whimpers, jaw clenched as he tries to fend off his bodily functions.

Anakin wants to help-- but his brain is still struggling to comprehend everything. This realization is still so new to him.

He moves a little closer, but Obi-Wan just shrinks away, actively warring against his physical need for contact and comfort.

"Master," Anakin starts, his tone gentle. "You're going into heat, can you understand me?" At the other Jedi's whimper and nod, he continues. "We need to get you to your rooms to wait it out, can you walk?"

Obi-Wan makes an attempt to answer, but ends up just shrugging a little helplessly.

Anakin is about to offer to carry him-- surely his Master won't mind him being near-- they're both Omegas. And, aObi-Wan can be secure in the knowledge that Anakin won't do anything he doesn't want. (Not that Alphas _can’t_ control themselves, but the knotheads in the senate aren’t known for their restraint or their respect for Omegas, and Obi-Wan isn’t lucid enough to fight back.)

(And another thing-- _They're both Omegas_ \-- that fact still blows him away. All this time, warring against his interest in Obi-Wan because he doesn't want to be with an Alpha, not some stereotypical Omega who needs an Alpha to take care of him, and that was never even true-- Obi-Wan is like him, an Omega. If it were possible, Anakin wants him even _more_ than before. His scent is perfect— _he_ is perfect.)

But Anakin is interrupted before he can make the offer to carry his friend home. Palpatine speaks up, voice a little more strained than before. He is clearly more affected by Obi-Wan's heat than Anakin is.

"Nonsense, my boy. Obi-Wan should not need to suffer his first heat in-- likely-- decades, alone. I caused this untimely heat; I will take responsibility and see him through it. It is the least I can do."

Obi-Wan's reaction is immediate; he huddles tighter in his seat, shrinking into the back of it and shaking his head violently. "No- no- no-" he mutters quickly, eyes wide and bright with panic.

"Don’t be silly," Palpatine chides Obi-Wan softly. "You would not be the first Omega I've seen through their heat, Kenobi. You will be well cared for."

That makes Anakin's hackles raise. He-- he can't believe what he's hearing. Palpatine, who he has always regarded highly, as a different kind of Alpha, an understanding one, an Alpha who didn't think less of Anakin for his setting...

And now he does _this_. He's treating Obi-Wan the same way every knotheaded Alpha treats every Omega in heat. Like Obi-Wan doesn't know what he wants-- like his right to say no is invalid just because of his biological condition.

Before he can stop himself, a low growl leaves Anakin's throat and he puts himself between Obi-Wan and Palpatine. "He said _no_ ," he snarls, and Palpatine actually takes a step back.

Anakin surprises himself with his own sudden hostility towards Palpatine—but perhaps it shouldn’t be such a surprise. He is protecting an Omega, his _friend,_ from an Alpha trying to mate him unwillingly. It’s something he’s done before, that he does regularly on their missions. The fact that it’s Palpatine and Obi-Wan only serves to make him angrier about it.

He really believed that Palpatine would be better.

Would the Chancellor have made the same offer if it was _him_ that went into Heat? He shudders to even consider it.

Obi-Wan certainly wouldn’t have allowed it, Anakin is sure of that.

After a tense moment, the old man backs down, baring his neck to show surrender. “Of course, Anakin. I apologize—his scent, I lost my head for a moment. There is no excuse. Do you need help taking him back to his Apartment?”

The quick surrender appeases Anakin’s Omega, making him happy that he was able to protect a member of his pack. It’s a common misconception that only Alphas will fight to protect what’s theirs—Omegas are in a way, even more protective of their packs. Biology makes it more difficult to defend themselves, but their family, their pups? Nothing is more dangerous than an Omega with something to protect.

And right now, Anakin is going to protect Obi-Wan.

With Palpatine sufficiently backed off, Anakin moves closer to Obi-Wan again, now allowed to approach without protest after his protective display. He doesn’t turn his back on Palpatine, still wary of him after his ‘moment of weakness’.

The Chancellor stays visible from the corner of his eye as he kneels by Obi-Wan, facing his friend and former mentor. “Obi-Wan, I need to get you back to your room. It’s safe there, we can build a nest for you and you can wait it out, okay?”

The older Jedi nods, relaxing a little with Anakin’s gentle voice. Anakin smiles, putting his hand out so Obi-Wan can choose to take it. “It looks like your Heat is gonna be a bad one, Master. I can carry you, if you want.”

It’s more hesitant this time, But Obi-Wan seems to recognize that Anakin is his pack, is safe, and he nods. The other Jedi sniffs Anakin’s hand before taking it, pressing Anakin’s palm to his warm cheek like he’s trying to scent-mark him.

It’s unbearably sweet to Anakin, and he allows it for a moment before he shifts, standing up so he can pull Obi-Wan into his arms to carry him.

Finally, he turns back to face Palpatine. “Your help isn’t necessary, Chancellor. We will see you for the second dose and the rest of our mission brief in a week.”

And with that, he turns to leave the room. He doesn’t see the way Palpatine silently fumes behind him, but he does smell the note of sourness in the Alpha's scent.

Good, he _should_ feel bad about himself, Anakin thinks.

°|●*.•

Getting back to Obi-Wan’s apartment is a relief. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss Palpatine’s help; a beta or two to escort them would have been nice.

Not that he minds growling Alphas into backing off. Only, it kept him from getting Obi-Wan to safety and comfort quickly, so in this instance, he does mind it a little.

Obi-Wan struggles to stay still the whole way there, to be quiet as every shift of his clothing chafes against his burning skin. At some point during the trip, he hears Anakin growling and (a little deliriously) presses his nose against Anakin’s neck, scenting him and rubbing his own scent against Anakin’s mating gland in a calming gesture.

It made Anakin’s heart swell, and it also surprised the Alpha he was snarling at to back off. Obi-Wan has kept his head tucked there for the remainder of the trip, apparently finding Anakin’s scent soothing.

Anakin is loath to pull Obi-Wan away, but they’ve reached Obi-Wan’s room, and his old Master needs more than this right now.

And in any case, his friend seems to recognize that they’ve returned to his rooms, turning his head and sniffing the air as some of the tenseness drains out of both of them.

Obi-Wan lets himself be set down on his bed, but then tries to pull Anakin down with him, one hand gripping Anakin’s arm like a vice. His eyes are wide still, pleading with Anakin to stay, and the younger of the two Jedi can’t help the little ache in his heart as he sees it.

“I’m not gonna leave you,” he promises gently, squeezing Obi-Wan’s hand. “I just need to get a few things, you don’t wanna soak through your mattress, do you?”

The reassurance makes some of the panic leave Obi-Wan’s eyes—good, he’s lucid enough to understand Anakin, even though he still seems too overwhelmed to speak. Anakin wonders how long it’s been since he last had a heat… it’s possibly since before he started training Anakin.

Surely, Anakin would have noticed it if Obi-Wan ever locked himself up for a few days to have his Heat? There’s no way Obi-Wan would have been able to hide the scent in his room, unless he’d gone elsewhere to wait it out. (Though, given how panicky he is now, and in need of familiarity, Anakin doubts Obi-Wan would be able to stomach having his Heat anywhere but in the safety of his home.)

Heats _aren’t_ supposed to be like this—first Heats are usually rough, but once you start having them on a regular cycle and learn how to cope with them, they’re more like brief annoyances two-to-three times a year. They can even be pleasant, a relaxing long weekend to look forward to like Anakin’s are.

The grip on his arm loosens as Obi-Wan gives a small shake of his head, then shuffles around on his bed, curling up with a pillow.

Anakin wants nothing more than to curl up with him, but his own mother-hen Omega instincts are demanding that he gets Obi-Wan proper care first.

The first place Anakin heads is to the ‘fresher, gathering up all the clean towels he can find. It’s a good thing Obi-Wan is such a neat freak and keeps his things regularly laundered—Anakin always has to prepare in advance for when he goes off his suppressants to have a controlled heat. Though, it’s a good thing he does that, he thinks to himself.

(Rather than completely suppressing his heats, as Obi-Wan apparently has, he goes off his suppressants a few times a year to have his heat. Suppressants, if used the way that Obi-Wan has used them, can damage a person’s reproductive system, causing major issues if they’re ever stopped. Which, is fine if one never wants to have children, but Anakin hasn’t decided yet if he does or doesn’t want children. He thinks he does, even if it means he’ll eventually have to leave the Order, so he keeps his heats controlled for the sake of missions, but does what he can to keep that option open to him.)

\-- This may not be the reason why he controls his heats, but he’s glad nonetheless for it now. He can only imagine what an absolute shitshow it would have been if both of them went into heat, and if the Chancellor hadn’t been stopped.

Once he has enough towels, his next stop is the closet, where he picks out the softest pair of pants he can find, along with a few other older clothes, ones which will carry familiar scents and be well-worn and soft.

That should be enough for now, and he can see Obi-Wan clumsily pulling at his obi and tabards, so he drops his finds onto the bed and goes over to help his friend.

Anakin sits himself on the edge of the bed before placing his hands over Obi-Wan’s carefully, stopping him from undoing his belts. “Obi-Wan, can you talk?”

His Master looks down, sweat still beading on his brow as he focuses and tries to speak. Anakin knows how hard it can be, especially if Obi-Wan hasn’t experienced this in a long time. It’s overwhelming, and hard to make your body do what you want it to when it’s like this.

But evidently, being in his rooms and having some time to calm down has helped, because Obi-Wan does speak.

“Yes.”

Anakin smiles encouragingly, gently squeezing one of his hands. “That’s good. Can you answer a few questions for me?”

Obi-Wan nods, rather than verbally affirming.

“Okay,” Anakin keeps holding Obi-Wan’s hands, seeing as his friend finds it somewhat comforting. “I want to help you through your Heat. If you’re okay with that, I want to stay with you. If not, that’s okay, I’ll help you get set up and then leave you be.”

Obi-Wan’s hands tighten on his, and his brow creases as he worries his lip between his teeth. It takes him a moment, but he manages to respond. “How?”

“How would I help, or how would I set you up?” Anakin asks, patiently.

“… how will you help,” Obi-Wan specifies, only stumbling over his words a little. He seems apprehensive.

Anakin takes a moment to soothe him by rubbing circles onto the back of his hand. “I won’t do anything you don’t want, Obi-Wan. We’ll go over what you’re okay with while you can still talk, and that’ll be all we do.”

Obi-Wan looks ashamed as he answers. “No knots.”

“Okay,” Anakin agrees easily. “No knots.” He keeps his tone free of judgement as he converses. “I won’t touch you at all if you don’t want me to, Obi-Wan. There are other ways to get through a heat.”

The relief on Obi-Wan’s face almost breaks his heart. His friend grips his hand back tightly, then looks up to meet his eyes as he speaks, careful and deliberately. “I want… touch. Just not… no…”

“No knots?” Anakin reiterates gently, saving his friend the struggle.

Obi-Wan nods, grateful that Anakin understands him.

Again, Anakin gives his friend a kind smile. “What about other things, Obi-Wan? Do you not… er, want to be penetrated at all? Are you okay with fingers, or getting off in other ways?”

Obi-Wan’s brows pull together in his brief distress. “I don’t… not sure.”

He gives Obi-Wan’s hand a quick squeeze. “Of course, Master. We can figure out what you’re okay with as we go. So, you want me to stay?”

“Please,” Obi-Wan says quickly, nodding. At least that, he is sure about. It both warms Anakin’s heart to know that Obi-Wan wants him nearby, and makes his chest ache, seeing how apprehensive and reluctant he is to share his heat.

He wonders, for a moment, if there’s a past bad experience behind Obi-Wan’s hesitation. And then he stops thinking about that, because it will only make him angry, and he doesn’t want to upset Obi-Wan by letting anger show in his scent. He can ask when Obi-Wan’s head is clearer.

There’s a time and a place, as his Master always tells him.

Here and now is not the time nor the place for this.

Anakin smiles at his best friend, shifting a little closer. “Okay, a few more questions, Obi-Wan. Then I’ll help you change and we can make your nest.”

Obi-Wan moves closer, shifting so he can lean against Anakin’s side, seeking more contact. “Mmhm.”

The sweetness of it, along with the syrupy thickness of Obi-Wan’s rich scent makes Anakin smile. He has the urge to kiss Obi-Wan’s temple, but stops himself, wanting to let Obi-Wan set their boundaries. “Okay, when was your last heat, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan tucks his face into Anakin’s neck, seeking comfort in his scent. The anxiety returns to his scent, and he takes a moment to answer. “When I presented.”

Oh.

Well, that explains why Anakin had no idea. He’s kept his heat suppressed for that long? No wonder it’s hitting him so hard now.

“How old were you?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes squeeze shut and again, he takes a while to answer. His voice was by no means loud before, but it’s even quieter now. “Thirteen.”

That’s really young; Anakin didn’t present until he was nearly eighteen. Omegas are usually ‘late bloomers,’ typically not presenting until after the age of sixteen. To present at thirteen… It’s almost unheard of.

And not only that, but the way Obi-Wan says it pulls oddly at Anakin’s heart, prompting him to put an arm around his old Master. He sinks into it, body trembling slightly from his .

“Do you remember anything that helped before? Anything that made you feel good?” It’s a long shot, but he hopes there’s a place to start, at least.

Though… he doesn’t really expect Obi-Wan to remember anything with clarity from his first and only Heat, over 20 years ago.

Rather than taking his time to respond, Obi-Wan pulls away a little and shakes his head.

Anakin frowns a little, worry twisting in his gut. He has to be careful to keep his scent calm and even. “Can you try to remember?” He asks, but Obi-Wan is shaking his head before he even finishes.

“No,” his Master says, but it feels less like an answer and more like a request for him to stop.

So Anakin does, remembering himself. He shouldn’t press Obi-Wan for more information, not now, or here.

He doesn’t try to make Obi-Wan come back to him, giving him his space. “Alright, it’s okay. We’ll just figure out what helps as we go, then. We’re good at winging it.”

His friend’s shoulders relax a little, putting Anakin at ease as well.

He gives Obi-Wan a moment before he continues. “Last question, Obi-Wan. Are you okay with me seeing you naked?”

Obi-Wan looks over at him sharply, then seems to realize the relevance of the question, and actually thinks about it. “… you’ve seen me before.”

Anakin nods, but doesn’t just leave it there. “You can still say no, if you’d prefer I didn’t while you’re like this.”

The older Omega’s gaze softens a little.

Once again, Anakin’s heart swells. He wouldn’t say he’s happy that Obi-Wan is going through a heat like this, but… He’s at least glad that he’s around to help him with it. “Okay, then let’s get you out of your tunics, they must itch. I have some softer pants for you here.”

The pants will likely come off too before the heat is over, Anakin always finds his skin getting too sensitive for any clothing, but it’s nice to have at least some sense of decency until he reaches that point, and he figures Obi-Wan would probably prefer that too.

Obi-Wan lets him come close again, being cooperative and giving little sighs of relief as his layers are removed and replaced with just the cotton pajama pants. Anakin strips most of his own layers off too, just leaving on his undertunic and trousers so his clothes won’t chafe on Obi-Wan’s skin much either.

When that’s done, he starts laying out the towels, spreading them out while overlapping as much as he can get them to. He’ll send Artoo for the ones from his room later, but this should be enough for now.

Obi-Wan is hazy-eyed and uncoordinated, but he helps, shifting and arranging the towels and blankets and clothes to his liking. He seems hesitant to do anything, but instincts win out and together they build a nest that’s cozy, but big enough for both of them to comfortably lay in.

With a little pride and a full heart, Anakin notices that the clothing he took off is included in the nest, tucked under a softer blanket near the pillows. Once they finish, Obi-Wan promptly sticks his face in that lump, laying down and breathing in Anakin’s scent left on his clothing.

The other Omega smiles at the sight, laying down in his spot on the bed-turned-nest, his side pressed along Obi-Wan’s. “Clothes don’t smell as good as the real thing,” he teases, causing his Master to flush a little as he’s found out.

But rather than deny it, Obi-Wan takes the tease as an invitation and turns on his side, putting an arm around Anakin and stuffing his face in his neck again to breath his strawberries-and-fried-cake scent in deeply.

Before Anakin can control himself, a purr builds up in his chest, and he puts his arm around Obi-Wan too, tilting his head to sniff at his former teacher’s strawberry blond hair. It’s soft, much softer than he thought it would be. Even the edges of his beard that Anakin can feel against his chin are soft, the fine hairs not prickling except for the places where they are very short.

His skin is flushed and burning wherever it’s pressed against Anakin’s, and his Master mewls softly as he finally gets comfortable, finding the way that his body and Anakin’s fit together.

“Smell nice,” Obi-Wan murmurs, fingers clutching at Anakin’s thin shirt.

As long as Anakin has known him, Obi-Wan has never been a _soft_ person— not like this, at least. He can see Obi-Wan’s Omega tendencies now; in the way he prefers to spend his free time quietly reading or writing up reports with a cup of warm tea, in the way he takes people under his wing, gently caring and nurturing them, in the way how, even when he doesn’t want to talk or interact physically, he seeks out company and companionship, happy to just be near another member of his family. But none of those things are _soft_.

Anakin even misinterpreted them as Alpha behaviors; seeing a drive to work and excel rather than seeking quiet and a desire for usefulness, seeing Alpha protectiveness and bravado where there was Omega empathy and nurturing, seeing territorial behavior where Obi-Wan simply wanted to be surrounded with those he loves.

But now, _now_ Obi-Wan is soft.

He’s soft where his belly presses to Anakin’s hip, where his beard brushes Anakin’s neck, where his thigh touches Anakin’s knee. His breaths against Anakin’s shoulder are soft, the sounds he makes are soft, the gentle way he curls his arms around Anakin’s chest are soft.

It suits him, Anakin thinks warmly, breathing in deeply to take in his scent. In Heat, he smells overpoweringly of warm, melted dark chocolate. But as close as they are right now, he can pick out the undertones as well—vanilla, and something more subtle and… spiced, like one of Obi-Wan’s exotic teas.

“You smell nice too,” he finally answers, nose buried in Obi-Wan’s hair. “I could breathe in your scent all day, every day. I wish you’d never wear blockers again.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t respond to that—too shy, Anakin thinks. He does snuggle in a little closer though, tickling Anakin’s scent gland with the way he sniffs at it.

That’s okay… now that he knows, now that he can see they’re not so different after all, he has all the time in the world to bring Obi-Wan out of his shell. He doesn’t have to be ashamed of his designation—Anakin is proud to be an Omega, a strong and independent one. He’s the strong Omega that Obi-Wan helped him become, and now he can help Obi-Wan in turn.

Obi-Wan’s hair is starting to get damp with sweat, so to help him get some cool air on his scalp, Anakin starts running his fingers through his Master’s coppery locks. He brushes it away from his forehead and scrapes the fingernails of his flesh hand along the older Omega’s scalp, drawing pleased sounds from him.

It isn’t long before most of the tension drains out of Obi-Wan’s body, leaving him boneless and pliant against Anakin. His breathing evens out, and then Anakin realizes his Master has fallen into a light doze.

It’s a good thing he’s able to sleep now, it will be harder for him later as the Heat sets in further and becomes more painful, rather than just overwhelming him with hormones. Right now, he has the luxury of being able to rest up in preparation for the exhausting next few days.

And another upside to this is that Anakin can get a few things done while his friend sleeps.

He lets Obi-Wan sink a little deeper into sleep before he moves, carefully extracting himself from the nest. The first thing he does is go to the kitchenette, where he pulls out a couple hand towels, soaks them in water, and then puts them in the conservator to chill them. They’ll come in ‘handy’ later.

Next, he comms R2 to ask him to bring his things to Obi-Wan’s apartment. He has more towels, which will be useful, and a pack full of things that smell like him (and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka) to help with his nesting, along with tampons to help absorb the copious amounts of slick he produces early in his heat.

Once Artoo confirms that he’s bringing the Nest Kit, Anakin makes his way to the small meditation room so he can make a call without disturbing Obi-Wan.

To his surprise, Yoda picks up quickly, rather than leaving him to send a message.

“Skywalker,” the elderly Jedi greets, some concern showing in the twitching of his ears. “Trouble, I heard there was. Safe, are you and Master Kenobi?”

Ah, so they caused enough of a stir to get the rumor mill in the Temple going. It puts a little warmth in his heart to see that the head of the order is concerned for them, despite the usual aloofness all the Council Members must display.

“We’re okay, Master Yoda,” Anakin assures him. “I was able to get Obi-Wan back to his apartments without much trouble. He’s in Heat, apparently his second one ever, and I promised to help him through it since he doesn’t really know what to do.”

The relief is evident in Master Yoda’s posture. “Thankful I am, that safe, both of you are. Need anything, do you?”

Anakin shakes his head, touched. Yoda’s species doesn’t have designations, but the old Jedi has always been very kind and understanding towards those who do. “We’re okay, I already sent Artoo to get everything else I need to help him. I just wanted to let you know that we’ll be unavailable for a few days, at least. He’s having a really rough heat.”

“All the time you need, take it.” Yoda tells him. “Unexpected this was, and upsetting this is, that inform the Council, Chancellor Palpatine did not. Preparations for this, we could have made, and protection to you both, we could have provided, but tell us of his plan, he did not. Apologize I do, to both of you.” While Anakin is a little at a loss for words, Yoda continues. “To Master Kenobi, many apologies we owe. His designation, secret it was meant to be.”

“Why?” Anakin asks, suddenly curious as it seems that Master Yoda knows more about why Obi-Wan never revealed his Omega Status. “It’s no shame to be an Omega.”

Yoda frowns in response, the lines of his face deepening sadly. “Not for me to tell, this is. Asked it of us who knew, Obi-Wan did. Press the issue, you should not, sensitive, it is.”

Anakin can tell that asking Yoda further won’t get him any more information. It’s frustrating, not knowing. His mind keeps coming up with worse and worse possibilities—if he just _knew_ …

But Yoda is right. If Obi-Wan wants to tell him about it, he will.

Anakin can’t stop thinking about how he found his Mother, just before she died.

He just hopes that whatever it is, it’s not that.

“Okay, Master.” Anakin acquiesces, bowing his head a little. “Thank you for the warning. I’ll reach out if there’s anything he needs.”

Yoda bows his head back, a grateful look in his eyes. “If need anything, _you_ do, as well.”

The insistence puts a smile on Anakin’s face. “Yes, Master. Thank you.”

“May the Force be with you,” The GrandMaster gives his farewell, and Anakin returns it in kind.

There’s a knock on Obi-Wan’s door as Anakin shuts off his comm.

Well, that was fast. He figured Artoo would take a bit longer to gather up his things and get here.

With a quick check to make sure Obi-Wan is still resting peacefully, Anakin goes over to answer the door, thankful that the hydraulic hiss is too quiet to disturb his friend.

However, it is not R2 who he sees outside the room.

It’s a courier, dressed in red-colored garb that marks him as a worker from the senate. Anakin eyes him suspiciously as the young man holds out a package for him.

“The Chancellor sends this to aid you, along with his deepest apologies.”

An apology, huh? Anakin’s inner Omega is a little soothed as he hears that Palpatine sent them a formal apology. And a gift. “Thanks,” he tells the courier, taking the package.

“Be well and be safe,” the young man wishes him, then turns to leave.

Anakin lets him go, taking the package inside and opening it, curious to see what Palpatine would send them. Maybe some painkillers? That fancy springwater stuff that’s supposed to taste better and have nutrients or something?

He gets the package open, and immediately scowls.

He’s not sure what he expected, really. Why is he still hoping that Palpatine isn’t just like every other knothead Alpha?

… It’s a silicone dildo. The expensive kind, with a self-inflating knot.

Anakin dumps it in the incinerator.

He has… strong words to give Palpatine. Later, though.

Right now, Obi-Wan is starting to shift restlessly in his nest, and Anakin has nothing else to do until R2 gets here with the other things he needs.

Anakin leaves the door unlocked and returns to their nest, curling back up with Obi-Wan. His Master snuggles with him readily, sleepily scenting him as Anakin adjusts them back into a comfortable position.

 _Their_ nest.

He likes the sound of that.


	2. Soft Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter:  
> \- again, brief scene where victim discusses past, underage rape  
> \- not really a warning but this chapter gets a little spicier in the cuddling department ;)
> 
> Again, thank you so much to @cataclysm_diaglogue for betaing this fic! She's awesome, and she writes great fics too! You should definitely give her a look!

Anakin wasn't trying to push, but by accident, he must have hit a nerve with Obi-Wan. He's not sure what; all he did was compliment his friend, calling him strong and pretty. A strong, beautiful Omega.

And Obi-Wan just, snapped. Like a switch flipped. "Please, don't." He says shakily, sniffling. "Don't call me that."

"What?" Anakin asks him, thrown for the moment. One second, Obi-Wan was snuggled into his side, the next he’s rolled back, not fully out of reach, but no longer pressed against him.

As if he can tell that he needs to offer more of an explanation now, Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. He’s in a more lucid spell now, his biological needs sated, allowing him to think and speak more clearly. He’s been steadily getting better as they go. "An-- an Omega. I don't-- being called that, it brings back... bad memories." Anakin stays still and silent, letting Obi-Wan work through what he wants to reveal. "When I presented-- it was early. I was captured as a slave on route to Bandomeer, where I was meant to join the AgriCorps. I—lost my home, my family, my chance to be a Jedi, and became a slave in one day.”

He pulls in a tight breath, staving off a sob before he continues. “The stress was too much. My first heat... it started before I was even properly chipped and collared. I couldn't talk-- like earlier. They didn't know my name. They just called me 'Omega' and 'Bitch'... I... please don't, Anakin. Anything but… that."

This is a story Anakin has never heard.

And he suspects, it’s a story Obi-Wan has never told.

He hasn’t pulled fully away from Anakin yet, which he takes as a good sign. Anakin brings his hand back up, being gentle as he runs his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair some more.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says, voice soft as he shoves down his boiling rage for later. He’ll get details about those slavers, from _someone_ … if they’re still alive, they won’t be for much longer. “I won’t call you that anymore if you don’t want me to. Just relax, Master. I’ve got you.”

Obi-Wan lets Anakin continue to hold him, though he’s tense now, not relaxing as he did before.

Anakin doesn’t speak. Obi-Wan needs to work this out, he just told Anakin something very sensitive and private, possibly something he’s never trusted with anyone else before. Or at least, something he’s never voluntarily told before. He needs to show his Master that he can be trusted with it, that he won’t abuse this knowledge.

Eventually, Obi-Wan speaks again, shoulders still tense, and his tone now defensive. “You don’t… need to treat me differently. I’m not… weaker, or more fragile, because of what happened. I’m still a Jedi Master, I’m still me, I’ve not changed simply because you know something now.”

Anakin’s heart aches for Obi-Wan as he speaks. The words sound almost practiced, and Anakin has no doubts that those who know what happened from Qui-Gon, or some other means, required him to see a mind healer about this; He probably wasn’t ready to talk about it back then. It hurts to think that Obi-Wan has to repeat such things to himself, and might not even believe them to be true.

It also hurts that he feels he has to _tell_ Anakin; as if he could somehow think less of him for surviving such an awful experience. Obi-Wan said not to treat him differently, but Anakin knows that right now, he has to pick his words carefully; the last thing he wants to do is not think something through and damage Obi-Wan’s tentative trust in him.

“I know, Master,” he starts, frowning a little to himself. He’s glad Obi-Wan still has his face tucked against Anakin’s neck so he can’t see it. “You are the best Jedi I know, the strongest person I’ve ever met. If anything… this only confirms how strong I already know you are.” He turns his head to press a soft kiss to Obi-Wan’s temple. “I won’t call you anything you don’t want me to, and I won’t think any less of you for it. But, Obi-Wan…” He can feel his friend relaxing as he speaks, and he runs a gentle hand through his hair. “You should remember some of the things you used to tell me. It’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to need help, and it’s okay not have everything figured out yet.” Anakin smiles as his Master groans a little, having his own words used against him. These are the things he reassured Anakin with when he was nine, and again when he was nineteen and had just lost his arm.

Obi-Wan turns his head to bury his face in the pillow instead as he responds. “I’ll bet you’re quite proud of yourself for giving advice I can’t argue with, hm?”

“A little,” Anakin teases, nudging him with his shoulder. “It’s true, though. You should subscribe to your own wisdom, Master, it’s not half bad.”

It seems to have been the right thing to say, Obi-Wan rolling over in Anakin’s eyes to give him a small smile, eyes shining but not in danger of shedding any tears. “Perhaps I will… Thank you, padawan.”

Anakin hums warmly at him, leaning in to kiss his forehead once again. “Of course, Obi-Wan. I’ll just have to come up with disgustingly sweet pet names for you instead. How about ‘my little cacao bean’? You smell like chocolate~”

“Stop that,” Obi-Wan huffs, gently shoving at his shoulder. He’s not really upset, the amusement in his Force signature giving him away.

“Hmm, prickly,” Anakin continues to tease, seeing the way Obi-Wan is warming up to something closer to their typical banter. “My bristly loth-cat,” he tries, brushing his knuckles across Obi-Wan’s soft beard.

Obi-Wan groans, rolling his eyes. “You’re not good at this, Anakin. Know where your strengths lie.”

“Mmh,” Anakin hums thoughtfully, wrapping his arms snug around the older man. “I’ll figure something out, honestly, anything is better than what I _thought_ I’d be calling you, if we ever shared a heat.”

“Oh?”

Anakin can’t help the little blush that tints his cheeks, just glad Obi-Wan is scenting him again and can’t see it. “I was so sure you were an Alpha,” he admits, a little embarrassed. “And, I don’t like Alphas, just on principle, but I used to think I’d make an exception for you, if you ever showed interest.”

There’s a pause as Obi-Wan thinks of his response. “On principle? You didn’t seem the principled type to me,” he ribs, and Anakin can’t help a short laugh. “Well, in any case, I wouldn’t prefer you call me Alpha, or Beta, for that matter. I just… would rather not be associated with any designation. If… that makes any sense.”

Anakin doesn’t _quite_ grasp it, but he can make himself avoid referring to Obi-Wan by any designations, if that’s what he wants. He doesn’t have to know all the reasoning to respect his best friend’s wishes. “I can do that.”

The agreement makes his friend purr shortly against his neck. He likes seeing Obi-wan like this… relaxed and lucid, just seeking touch to fulfill his heat. This is how a heat _should_ be; the frenzied, painful moments of before are only brought on by the imbalance of hormones being on suppressants causes, or being in the presence of an Alpha emitting mating pheromones. Omegas aren’t meant to be in pain through their heats, especially not when spending them alone or with another Omega. Anakin hopes he can convince his former Master to have controlled heats with him from now on, they’re honestly pretty pleasant when you can prepare for them.

It’s another long moment before Obi-Wan speaks again. “So, you… thought about me being your Alpha?” He asks, sounding carefully curious. “Are you disappointed I’m _not_ an Alpha?”

“ _No--”_ Anakin tells him, so quickly he almost chokes on the word. “I’m not— _definitely not_ disappointed. Alphas are all knotheads, I was actually really excited to learn you’re a—not an Alpha.” Obi-Wan’s answering chuckle sounds like the start of a tease. “Don’t laugh,” he pouts, huffing a breath into Obi-Wan’s beard. “Until this morning, I thought all Alphas sucked, and you and Palpatine were the two exceptions. Now it turns out that you’re not an Alpha, and Palpatine’s a knothead too.”

“Just figured that one out, hm?” Obi-Wan asks, somewhere between sympathetic and teasing. “I’ve never liked him much, but let’s not talk about him,” he continues, brushing off the subject. “So, you’re not disappointed I’m not an Alpha, but if I was, you would have let me share your heat with you?”

Anakin is still reeling a little from Obi-Wan admitting to not liking Palpatine—that’s news to him… his Master has always been polite and cordial to the man. But, then, he supposes he had to be.

The subject is changed now, though, and he has to keep up. “Yeah, I mean,” he blushes a little deeper, and nothing stops Obi-Wan from seeing it this time. “If you’d wanted to. I’m not sure I’d ever have figured out how to ask, though…”

“Why don’t you try now?” Obi-Wan asks, staying difficult to read. “You know I won’t turn you away now,” he points out, and Anakin can’t tell if he’s teasing or serious. “What would you have wanted me to do, were I an Alpha sharing your heat with you.”

Anakin stares, trying his best to discern what Obi-Wan is getting at, and coming up empty.

“… are you making fun of me?”

“Not at all.”

It’s sincere, but that’s all Anakin can say for sure. He figures he won’t know what this is about until he answers, so he sighs, and flops on his back to stare at the ceiling and think. What did he dream of Obi-Wan doing with him in his heats?

A pleasant shiver runs down his spine as he recalls some of his more vivid fantasies. “I…” He huffs, trying to keep his head level. Obi-Wan doesn’t need him getting overly horny too. “I’d want your bite, first. Before anything. And I’d want to bite you back. If you weren’t willing to let me do that, I wouldn’t want to share my heat with you.” He starts, his mating glad throbbing just from thinking about it. He _still_ wants Obi-Wan’s bite. “I’d want that commitment first, because I wouldn’t share my heat with just _any_ Alpha. You’d have to be _my_ Alpha. And then…”

Anakin trails off, really thinking about it now. “Then I’d want you to help me nest, make it perfect until it smelled like both of us, until it looked just right. I like being an Omega, I’m _proud_ to be one, and I’d wanna be a good Omega for you… But our first time, I’d want to see your face, I think I’d wanna ride your knot, see if you can wait and stay still while I get used to it.” It’s filthy, and his face is flushed as he imagines it. “But after that… if I’m happy with your restraint, I’d let you loose, I’d want you to breed me up, keep me satisfied all throughout my heat.”

A purring starts up from Obi-Wan again, and then in a flash of movement, his friend sits up, swinging a leg over Anakin’s waist and straddling his hips.

His old Master looks down at him with bright, wide-pupiled eyes, still purring. “ _Anakin_ ,” He growls, and the sheer level of _desire_ in his voice sends a heated throb through his core. “… I may not be the Alpha you imagined, but would you still allow me to,” he pauses, eyes shining with heat, “as you said, ‘keep you satisfied’?”

Anakin squirms, the cadence of Obi-Wan’s rumbling, accented voice alone kickstarting his slick glands.

He _keens_. “ _Gods_ , yes, pl _ease_ , Master.”

The older Jedi flashes a grin down at him, then leans down. He lays himself almost chest-to-chest with Anakin, propping himself up with his forearms one Anakin’s breast so he can look down at Anakin, face just inches away.

One hand goes up to play with Anakin’s soft, curly hair, an equally soft smile playing around his lips. Anakin is entranced, so much so that he nearly misses the words leaving Obi-Wan’s mouth.

“Dear one…” he starts, voice still a throaty rumble. “I never knew you thought of me so. I’ve thought of you as well… though with, perhaps, different fantasies,” he admits, drawing a needy whimper from his former padawan. Anakin never expected Obi-Wan to say those words… hearing them now is a blessing like he never expected to receive. “If you’ll allow it-”

“Yes, anything,” Anakin interrupts, panting as his body reacts to his bed partner’s aroused scent. “Anything you want, Master, _please._ ”

The pleading earns him a soft, warm laugh. “So eager,” he murmurs, “You don’t even know what I want. _Patience_ , padawan.”

Anakin whines, but says no more, letting Obi-Wan continue.

“First, I want to kiss you,” Obi-Wan starts over, a note of insecurity in his tone, as if he isn’t sure that Anakin wants this kind of intimacy. He continues quickly, his voice growing more sure as he speaks. “And then, I want to taste you, dear one… you smell so sweet, so lovely, so delicious.”

Anakin squirms involuntarily, his body already pressed against Obi-Wan’s yet _still_ wanting to be closer. He doesn’t need to say it with words to tell Obi-Wan _yes, yes, he wants that, he wants all of it, any of it, whatever Obi-Wan will give him._

“Then,” Obi-Wan says, Anakin hanging on his every word, “then, when you’re all loose and wet, then, if you’ll allow it… I want to be inside you, dear one.” He stays still where he is, clearly nervous about how Anakin will think of that desire; one so taboo between people of their biological type.

Anakin doesn’t care if it’s taboo, he _wants_ that. His body _sings_ with the need to have Obi-Wan mount him, to be inside him, to be close, ever so much closer to him. He wants Obi-Wan’s skin pressed to his in every way, against every intimate part of him.

“ _Master_ ,” Anakin breathes out, his eyes wide and bright with sheer _want_. “please, please, _Force,_ yes, Master, fuck me please, I want you in me so bad, I think about it so much, I want you, I want to be your omega, please, _please_ …” he whimpers as Obi-Wan hushes him gently, lifting a hand from his chest to press his finger to his lips.

Obi-Wan’s color-shifting eyes have settled on a silvery green for now, the color of envy, greed, _desire_. “There is no need to beg me, dear one,” he murmurs, his voice quite with awed adoration. “I will give you whatever you want… anything you want, whenever you want it.”

“Bite me,” Anakin blurts out, the words leaving his lips without consulting his brain. “I want your bite, Obi-Wan… I want to be _yours_ , your mate… and for you to be mine.” His eyes flicker briefly to the swollen and pink scent gland on Obi-Wan’s neck, the source of his mouth-watering, intoxicating aroma.

His Master’s fingers tighten slightly, his eyes searching Anakin’s for a moment. “… I want that. My dearest Anakin… I _will_ , if you truly want that. But can you wait? Can we talk about that after this heat is over, when we have clearer heads?” he pulls his hand back, freeing Anakin’s lips so he can speak. “I understand if you don’t want to do anything else before mating, Anakin. I can wait until we have clearer heads.”

That’s a dilemma for Anakin. He promised himself he wouldn’t share a heat with anyone unless they were mated first…

But at the same time, he knows Obi-Wan is in the midst of his heat still. He’s more lucid now, but it’s not fair to ask him to make such a big decision so soon. And… Obi-Wan says he _does_ want to mate. He wouldn’t lie about something like that.

Obi-Wan is trustworthy, he probably just wants to have a more serious talk about it first, which Anakin can respect. And maybe he even wants to go a little old-fashioned and court him first.

Anakin can _definitely_ get behind that.

“It can wait,” he finally responds, eyes locking with Obi-Wan’s green-blue eyes. He really has the most beautiful eyes, the colors shifting and blending more beautifully than any water planet. “I can wait for your bite. But your cock?” he continues, eyes gleaming as he rolls his hips up against Obi-Wan’s. “I don’t want to wait a second longer for you. Master, I’ve waited _years_ already.”

The older Jedi smiles, and the expression lights up his whole face, makes his already-gorgeous features truly shine. Anakin isn’t sure if he imagines that the room gets brighter, or if Obi-Wan’s happiness just has that effect. “I hope you can wait just a bit longer, dear one,” Obi-Wan says.

Anakin whines, not happy with the unexpected answer.

Obi-Wan laughs, soft and warm as he leans down to bring their faces closer together. “It’s just, I do want that kiss first, dear.”

And well, _that_ he can get behind.

Rather than respond, Anakin reaches up, hooking an arm around Obi-Wan’s torso and tugging him down. His partner makes a surprised sound, but doesn’t fight it.

And then their lips are together, perfect and soft and Anakin forgets momentarily that anything else exists besides them.

All that matters is him, and Obi-Wan, and the love they share for one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get even spicier next chapter! Thank you so much for reading, and all the comments on the last chapter gave me the absolute best boost of seratonin! Your encouragement means a lot to me! Thanks so much!!


	3. Spicy Cuddling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday was really stressful for a lot of us, so here, take this chapter a little earlier than I intended to put it out <3
> 
> No warnings for this chapter! it's just good old omega/omega smut <3
> 
> I do wanna apologise for some pretty glaring issues in the last chapter, it looks like some things I left highlighted in the word document didn't copy over at all into Ao3, I've fixed that now.  
> Big Thank you again to @cataclysm_dialogue for editing this fic! She's been wonderful!
> 
> Thank you so much for all your comments so far! They've been very motivating and encouraging! I love you, thank you for all the support on this, and now, please enjoy the last chapter!

The galaxy narrows down to two men, to lips against lips, to a soft beard pressed to his face, to Obi-Wan’s heart thumping under his palm.

It’s not rushed, and Anakin is thankful for that. It’s everything he hoped a first kiss would be: slow, deep, love in every shift of their lips together. And yet, as the same time, it’s also _more_ —The push and pull against each other, the way their mouths slot together just so; not fitting exactly perfect, but it’s near enough to perfection that he doesn’t care, in fact, he _likes_ the way his nose is smushed against Obi-Wan’s cheek, the way their chins knock together as they shift.

Anakin feels as if he could spend an eternity with Obi-Wan’s lips pressed to his. He could remain here, in this moment for the rest of his life, and he would be perfectly content.

But they need air, and eventually Obi-Wan breaks away, pulling away with reluctance and looking down at him with eyes so full of love and affection that Anakin feels as if he could drown within the depths of those blue-green irises.

Obi-Wan’s hand strokes lovingly down his face, his touch so soft and kind, Anakin can’t help but lean into it. His skin is still hot to the touch, leaving behind trails of warmth on Anakin’s cheek.

For a second, he thinks the heat that builds in Obi-Wan’s eyes means he’s going to kiss him again. He leans up, his lips gravitating towards Obi-Wan’s, only to be halted by a firm hand on his chest. “Later,” Obi-Wan promises, a hint of a growl in his voice. “I want to taste you now.”

Anakin is nodding frantically, words meaningless in the face of Obi-Wan’s intense lust, it weighs down on him almost as tangibly as Obi-Wan’s body does. The Jedi Master moves down, quickly divesting him of his sleep pants and pushing his legs apart for himself.

Anakin’s brain feels adrift, all sense of normalcy going out the airlock as Obi-Wan crosses the unspoken boundary he only ever dreamed of him crossing.

All he can do is gasp, his hand flying down to grip Obi-Wan’s hair as his bearded chin brushes against Anakin’s most sensitive parts. Slick gushes out of him and Obi-Wan readily laps it up, not hesitating at all to swipe his tongue over Anakin’s wet and leaking hole.

A moan leaves them both, Anakin hears something that sounds like ‘so kriffing sweet,’ come from the man between his thighs, but that can’t be Obi-Wan, surely, his Master _never_ curses so brazenly.

His thighs squeeze together on either side of Obi-Wan’s head as the other man dives back in, pressing his tongue _inside_ , his beard now soaked with slick and chafing as Anakin’s inner thighs, at the dip between his ass cheeks.

He worries he might be hurting Obi-Wan, gripping his hair so tightly, and when that occurs to him, he immediately loosens his grip, not wanting to harm his fri—his _mate_ —when Obi-Wan is making him feel so _good_.

As soon as his grip slackens, a sound of loss leaves Obi-Wan’s lips, a whine that vibrates against Anakin’s core and makes him whimper in tandem at the feeling. His thighs squeeze involuntarily again, and Obi-Wan gives an approving purr, which only makes Anakin _more_ desperate.

His grip tightens on Obi-Wan’s hair once more, weaving the short, coppery strands between his fingers as he holds Obi-Wan close, keeping his face buried between Anakin’s thighs.

The purring increases, and his Master’s tongue continues to lick into him with renewed vigor. Anakin is lost, _lost_ in the intense pleasure of it all, a whine building in his throat and stretching out, a continuous, needy noise with no end, broken up only by desperate gulps of air.

And Obi-Wan just keeps _going_ , he doesn’t let up, doesn’t relent, just lapping up all the slick gushing out of Anakin as if he’s dying of thirst and Anakin is the only thing that can quench it. His tongue slides in and out of Anakin’s hole, making him loose and open, occasionally shifting up so he can suck on Anakin’s clit and balls, making Anakin cry out from the intense pleasure it gives him.

Now, Anakin has had sex before. He and Padme, once. Others, too, when he was close to his heat and needed to work some of his frustrations out so he can finish up a mission. Rex has given him a hand in more ways than one. But of all the times he’s experimented, or banged one out with someone, never, _never_ has anyone quite Been with him like this. No one has worshipped him between his thighs, taken him apart with their tongue, ate him out with such passion that Anakin can’t string together enough sense to _think_ for two seconds.

When Obi-Wan finally pulls away, Anakin sobs at the loss, eyes wet with tears from the overwhelmingness of it all.

He doesn’t have time to mourn the loss before Obi-Wan’s mouth is back on his, and Anakin can taste himself, his own slick on Obi-Wan’s tongue, trapped in the soft strands of his beard.

It may not be his proudest moment, but Anakin can’t help it. He’s so overcome, so overwhelmed by the force of Obi-Wan’s want, by his love, by his desire, by the heat in their kiss, that Anakin orgasms right then. He makes a mess between their bellies, like an inexperienced teenager just getting his dick wet.

He has to break away from the kiss, turning his face and using the hand still gripping Obi-Wan’s hair to pull him down, bury his face in Anakin’s neck as he shouts. It pulls Obi-Wan’s mouth close, his teeth brushing over Anakin’s mating gland, just the slightest press, and Anakin is gone. He may have screamed Obi-Wan’s name, he may have said nothing recognizable, he doesn’t know. His vision goes white.

When he comes back down to reality, to their shared nest, he is welcomed back by Obi-Wan’s gentle eyes. Anakin is almost overwhelmed again, almost brought to tears once more by the overflowing love in his shining, every shifting eyes. In those gems that shift from grey to green to blue, colors changing depending on the way the light hits them, but the love staying always, the one constant.

Obi-Wan kisses him again, less urgent, but just as intense. It’s a soft press of lips, a promise that he’s here, that he doesn’t want to go anywhere. Anakin could cry, maybe he is crying.

This, this is everything he’s ever wanted: Obi-Wan, here, _his._

“Are you alright, dearest?” Obi-Wan asks, so much love and concern in those few words. “We can stop if it’s too much.”

The _last_ thing Anakin wants is for Obi-Wan to stop now. He shakes his head, then remembers the question, and nods, and then gets frustrated with himself. Words. He needs to use words. “I’m alright, I don’t want to stop,” he says, then surges up to kiss the twinkle of amusement out of Obi-Wan eyes. “Don’t laugh at me,” he pouts, “I’ll get you back for this.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin can’t help the huff of frustration that leaves him at his (admittedly kind of hot) cockiness.

The amused spark hasn’t left Obi-Wan eye, and Anakin has had enough, for his own sake. He’s gonna shut Obi-Wan up. Obi-Wan said he wants to be inside Anakin, he didn’t say _how._

His thighs still feel shaky and trembling, but he summons the strength to flip them, pushing Obi-Wan off to the side and then rolling on top of him. “Now,” Anakin smirks, pride filling his chest at the brief surprise that flits through Obi-Wan’s eyes. “We’re gonna do this part my way,” He finishes, sitting up to straddle his Master’s hips.

Obi-Wan doesn’t complain, the surprise leaving and being replaced with a dark, heated look as Anakin shoves down his sleep pants too. His hand goes to Anakin’s hip, helping him stay steady and he reaches between Obi-Wan’s legs, scooping Obi-Wan’s copious slick onto his fingers.

Obi-Wan whimpers softly, eyes tracking Anakin’s fingers as they lift to his lips, letting him taste Obi-Wan. It’s different from how he smells, still rich and with a hint of sweetness like his chocolatey scent. But there’s an earthy undertone, something muskier, something that is all _Obi-Wan_.

His Master’s hips buck underneath him as he licks one finger clean, just to get a taste, then goes back for more. This time, he brings his hand to Obi-Wan’s cock. He really is large for an Omega, he could easily pass for a beta if it weren’t for the slick practically gushing out of him. He’s a good size, thick, but not so thick that Anakin can’t get his hand around him.

Obi-Wan’s slick mixes with his precome as Anakin strokes him. He’s already hard, but the length still spasms in his hand, clearly liking the attention.

Omega’s cocks are a little different. Not as veiny as Alpha and Beta cocks. Their balls are a little undersized, and the skin is far more sensitive; swelling more like a female labia does than Alpha and Beta cocks do. They don’t grow in length so much as they do just swell and become firmer, the skin somewhat spongey and sensitive.

Most partners make the mistake of trying to stroke Omega cocks like they would any other cock, but Anakin knows better. He squeezes, massaging the member and rubbing little circles into the tip like he would with a clit.

Either Obi-Wan himself hasn’t figured this out, or simply no one else has ever done this for him, or Anakin is just _that_ good, because his eyes immediately roll back, his hips jerking as Anakin teases him. It’s like it’s his first time and he can’t handle it; the Negotiator is struck utterly speechless under Anakin’s ministrations.

Anakin can’t help the smirk that grows on his face as Obi-Wan gasps from the way he twists his wrist.

“Are _you_ okay?” he asks, grinning cheekily down at his partner.

Obi-Wan’s hand loosens where it’s gripped tightly in the sheets as Anakin relents a little. “Never better,” he pants, smiling dazedly up at Anakin. He looks beautiful, absolutely gorgeous like this. His hair is an absolute mess, he hasn’t bothered brushing it in a day, and Anakin’s hand gripping it hasn’t helped at all. It’s fanned out around his head on the pillow, like a sexy halo. His cheeks are flushed, his beard glistening with Anakin’s slick still. The wetness highlights the coppery color of his hair, making it shine like bronze. His eyes are soft with adoration, looking up at Anakin, the object of his affections.

Anakin isn’t sure he’ll ever really get used to that. Obi-Wan _loves_ him. It’s a dream come true.

A good dream, not one of his nightmares.

If this _is_ a dream, he hopes he never wakes up.

Obi-Wan is nice and slicked up now, and Anakin is plenty loose from Obi-Wan’s work between his thighs. No sense in waiting any longer. He holds Obi-Wan in position as he moves, lifting his hips off Obi-Wan’s thighs and hovering over his swollen cock.

And then he pauses, some sense returning to him for the moment. “Wait, should I get a condom?”

Obi-Wan hesitates as well, then shrugs. “If you want to bother with it.”

He has a point. As far as Anakin knows, there’s no recorded event of a male Omega getting another male Omega pregnant. Omega Males rarely conceive outside of heat, and their sperm counts drop to almost nothing during their heats. There’s almost no chance Obi-Wan will impregnate him while he’s in heat and Anakin isn’t. And, he’s on birth control, even if he isn’t sure if the pills Palpatine gave them negates that now or not.

After a second of deliberation, Anakin decides he doesn’t want to bother with it. There’s basically no chance Obi-Wan can get him pregnant, and this position isn’t a good one for conception on top of all the biological reasons.

Anyways… if by some miracle he _does_ get pregnant, it’s not like the Council can get mad at them. And he’ll just have one more thing assuring that Obi-Wan _will_ mate him when this heat is over.

He shrugs too, half-smiling down at Obi-Wan, deciding that the risk isn’t worth leaving their nest for. “I’m good if you’re good.”

In response, Obi-Wan bucks his hips, making the tip of his cock bump against Anakin’s wet hole. He grins smarmily at the way Anakin sharply inhales. “Get on with it then, _Ah-_ nakin.”

And well, Anakin certainly isn’t going to turn down such an enticing invitation. Rather than answer, he repositions himself, then sinks down onto Obi-Wan all in one go.

They gasp in tandem, Obi-Wan’s grip on his hip becoming so tight that he’s certain bruises will be left behind.

Anakin’s mechanical hand lays flat on Obi-Wan’s chest; he’s careful not to grip, not wanting to pinch Obi-Wan’s skin between the joints. His flesh hand goes to Obi-Wan’s arm, gripping his forearm as tightly as he’s holding Anakin’s hip.

With Obi-Wan now inside him, Anakin is—he’s full, he feels complete, so perfect. Obi-Wan fills him so well, just big enough to make it a snug fit. He’s just big enough that Anakin can _feel_ him without the stretch being painful. Anakin’s body is built to take more than this, but there’s no need. The feeling is pleasant, making his inner Omega purr happily as he takes his mate’s cock so well.

They take a moment to adjust to the feeling, for Anakin to let his body accept the sudden intrusion, and for Obi-Wan to regain his composure. His mouth is half ajar, his eyes still wide from the overwhelming feeling of Anakin just _taking_ him all at once.

Anakin doesn’t give Obi-Wan too long to get used to it, recovering more quickly than his Master. Biting his lip, he lifts himself, dropping back down with a harsh slap of skin on skin. Twin gasps leave them, their voices mingling as Anakin’s metal fingers twitch on Obi-Wan’s chest.

In a flash, Obi-Wan’s hand leaves the sheets, going to rest over Anakin’s prosthetic hand. His sensors pick up the heat of his skin, and his heart swells at the sight, Obi-Wan looking up at him with so, so much love as his palm rests over Anakin’s. Not many people touch his prosthetic; most avoid it, either because they think it’s rude or because the feeling of metal instead of skin is unnerving.

Obi-Wan never avoids it; he accepts every part of him.

Anakin thinks he could cry again, but he stops himself, taking in a deep breath.

Once he feels centered again, he squeezes around Obi-Wan, flexing the muscles that are normally meant to milk and Alpha’s knot.

It has the desired effect, Obi-Wan punching out a gasp underneath him and his hips jerking up. And, oh, Anakin likes that—

He lifts his hips a little, squeezing around Obi-Wan as he moves up, and Obi-Wan keens, following him with a thrust of his hips.

Bright pleasure bursts behind Anakin’s eyes likes stars, Obi-Wan brushing over that glorious spot within him, lighting up all his pleasure centers. So close, if he just angles like—

Obi-Wan thrusts up again, and _there,_ he hits it dead-on, and Anakin makes a strangled noise, clenching involuntarily as Obi-Wan’s hips drop back to the bed.

His thighs shake with need, his cock swelling again as Obi-Wan continues, gripping his hip and using the leverage to pound up into him. He’s going to leave bruises, Anakin just _knows_ it, and he’s enthralled by the idea. He wants that, wants Obi-Wan to mark him, to bruise him and use him and make him _his._

He focuses on keeping himself angled just right, helping Obi-Wan hit that jaw-droppingly pleasurable spot inside him as often as possible.

It isn’t long before Anakin is on the edge of climax again, his mechanical fingers now entwined with Obi-Wan’s, holding tight to one another as Obi-Wan thrusts up into him, and Anakin rides him hard, legs trembling with the effort of holding himself up.

“Obi-Wan, I’m--”

“Come for me, dearest,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin does.

He drops down, not able to hold himself up anymore as his second orgasm hits him like a skytrain. He cries out, walls tightening around Obi-Wan as spurts of cum paint Obi-Wan’s belly, mixing with the mess already there from earlier.

Obi-Wan’s impressive stamina runs out then, too, following on the heels of Anakin’s climax. He cries out, hips spasming as he releases his own load. Anakin feels Obi-Wan’s thighs tense under his ass, feels the hot wetness coat his insides, feels himself purr in satisfaction as his mate’s cum fills him up.

And Anakin doesn’t exaggerate; Obi-Wan truly does fill him, shooting deep into Anakin’s passage. He feels the hot cum hit his cervix, and it sends pleasant shivers up his spine.

They stay like that; joined together for several peaceful moments as they ride out their aftershocks.

When he feels his hips starting to ache from his straddling position, Anakin releases a slow breath, moving up and off his mate. That’s what they are now; bite or no bite. They belong to each other; they always have, the rest is just semantics.

Anakin pulls off, ad Obi-Wan whimpers softly at the loss. Anakin bites his own despairing noise down, Laying himself alongside Obi-Wan in their nest. He feels a purr build up in him again, the pleasant ache and the soft blankets and the scent of his satisfied mate adding up to a perfect moment.

He nuzzles Obi-Wan’s shoulder, cuddling closer to his former Master and Obi-Wan accommodates him easily, the two of them shifting until they’re pressed along one another, Anakin’s thigh nestled between Obi-Wan’s legs.

“I love you,” Anakin murmurs, head pillowed on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, looking at the handsome profile of Obi-Wan’s face. He has the most gorgeous mate; he’s the luckiest Omega in all the Galaxy.

Obi-Wan turns his face at the confession, the light from his window highlighting his soft smile.

He kisses Anakin again, hand sliding up from Anakin’s back to tangle in his unruly blonde curls. His lips meet Anakin’s: soft, slow, and sensual. He’s unhurried, taking his time to kiss his mate properly.

When he finally pulls away, Anakin is breathless. Obi-Wan already said the words through his actions, but he repeats them in basic anyways. “I love you too, dearest one.”

Anakin knows it, beyond a doubt.

And four days later, when the heat is over and Obi-Wan gets Anakin a proper courting gift… he proves it again.

He gives Anakin a ring, one with a shard of kyber crystal at its crown. They put them on in a small ceremony, just the two of them and their closest friends and family. Palpatine is not invited.

At the ceremony, Obi-Wan lets Anakin bite him first, then seals their mating with his own bite, marking them as each other’s, as their one and only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much again for reading, and for your comments! They give me so much seratonin, it honestly helps me to get through the day <3 I actually screenshot my favorites and save them in a folder to re-read when I'm feeling down, so really, thank you <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who cheered me on as I wrote this! It's been a joy to write, and I hope it was worth the wait!! I'll be editing and posting the rest throughout the week!
> 
> As Always, comments and kudos are wholly appreciated, and I love you! Thanks for reading!


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